Friday, November 30, 2007


Okay, here's the deal: Today, I officially un-linked The Blog from The Dot-Com.

This blog still links back to my site; there's just no straight-through way to get here from that site.

I know that most of my regular readers have come to appreciate the difference and surely understand that since the dot-com is on the back of The Twenty (and several other surfaces), it's seen by the HoMeSkOoLeRz and a few other family members, and with the recent acquisition of an e-mail address by a less-net-proficient family member, the dot-com may see a little more traffic soon.

When I say "less-net-proficient," I'm talkin' about that guy who saw me using an AOL CD as a coaster and freaked out about it, his exact words were "Holy Shit!!! Don't ruin that! It's got 1,040 FREE HOURS on it, I can put that in the Bronco!" I was too stunned to think of asking just how he was planning to use those "hours" in a car stereo, and I still wish I knew...

Good, bad, or indifferent, I'd rather that the eyes of said traffic not stumble onto this blog.

What I've done with the "Blog" button on the dot-com is this: I've made a screen-shot into a jpg file to display instead of linking directly here. My "Regular Readers," (I Love y'all) can still come to this URL for actual Blogger postings, as can other members of the Blogger/Blogging Community of which I try my best to be a functioning member -- but those who flip through the dot-com will get a jpg of a (supposedly) current post, possibly edited for content... I know the jpg may not be the most efficient way to go about that, but I'm working on a couple other methods, I just need to think 'em through and try 'em out.

What I think I'm trying to do here is just separate the two sites... I think...

I remember discussing this a time or two, and today I decided to just get-it-done. If there's something ya think I should do differently, by all means, please do share your ideas and I just might use some of 'em.

More Later... _\,,/

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Thursday, November 29, 2007

Maybe I'm Loopy.

I hate to say I'm giving in because it feels a little like giving up, but I don't think I'm going to knit all my Christmas gifts this year because the pressure kinda takes the fun out of it. Mom is definitely getting a scarf (unless I end up going way further than intended and making it into a throw), but there may be only one or two other knitted gifts from my needles this year. Maybe I should've tried for an earlier start... But even with keeping Mom's scarf project in the car and only knitting when I'm not at home, I'm getting pretty close to scarf-width:

Since I still get the urge to knit even when I'm at home hangin' out with Mom, I grabbed some clearance-aisle yarn in a couple different colors and I keep that in my chair at the house. I finally remembered to take my flash drive with me to the library and print that Boobie Scarf Pattern, and I've finally read it through enough times to feel like I could take a shot at it.

Last night I ripped out my second try at The Boobie Scarf. The first time, I was doing great 'til I started on Boobie #2 and discovered I only had six stitches where the pattern called for seventeen. I didn't even have to go back for another read-repeat-read-repeat to figure out where I'd miscounted. Last night on that second try, I ended up with a very visible hole right beside the first nipple and when I thought I might just keep knitting and see what happened on the next one, I noticed that what I'd knit so far wasn't hanging straight off the needle -- read, puzzle, re-read... Apparently I'd left out a single line of the pattern. Whups. Re-rip, try again...

Tonight, one way or another, I will knit Boobies. Maybe I'll switch to a different ball of yarn, maybe I'll go up a size and use short needles, maybe I'll turn off the damn TV and sit under a lamp; but tonight, I will knit Boobies.

Unless I screw it up again...

More later. _\,,/

(Yeah, howdy Go0gle, I said Boobies!)


Monday, November 26, 2007

Three Hundred Bucks...

Thanksgiving was nice, notably less stressful than I'd figured. "Black Friday" was also nicer than expected -- much like last year, Mom and I went to Skiatook for a little morning shopping and lunch and it was a really nice time.

Thanksgiving was my first "long trip" (Mounds) in the Mark 8, and Friday was Mom's first "close look" at it too. I like it a lot, but I'm still not about to give up the SHO. I said a while back that I wanted something two-doored, rear-wheel-drive, and V-8-powered, and this Lincoln coupe turned up with perfect timing. I hadn't really considered a Mark 8, but...

It was a call-n-haul, the guy we got it from said he was leaving soon and didn't want to mess with having it fixed. The pump for the air suspension had quit working and he took the three hundred dollar offer on it. That was the day before that red Mustang sold, and I'd just came back from Claremore in it when I walked in and saw 'em unloading the Lincoln off the truck. Pearly white with tan leather, reasonably slick for ten years old, and not too raggedy inside either -- I leaned into the passenger door to take a little peek, and following in the footsteps of My Mom with her four hundred dollar truck, I went back inside and said "It's nice, I think I want it." The next day, when we got it inside the building to really check it out, I was sure I wanted it. It's got goodies like I've never played with -- even with all these years in the car biz, I'd never had my hands on anything with a power tilt & telescope steering column, and honestly, that little joystick is pretty damn fascinating. When ya turn the key off, it pulls in and up to let ya get out, and when ya get back in, it moves itself back to where it was. Same with the front seats -- when ya flip the backs forward to get in the back seat, the power track moves the seat all the way forward to widen the gap.

For three hundred bucks, you bet I want it... I was ready to reach for the checkbook when Dad told Mom we "had the birthday taken care of." I took it home the night before Thanksgiving.

On the highway, it has a little heavier feel than the SHO and doesn't seem to wiggle it's ass around as much as the Mustang did; the 4.6 is tremendously well-powered and the car seems very stable at (reportedly insane rates of) speed. It really sticks to the ground and handles real nice, but I sometimes wonder if it might not be quite as nimble as the SHO -- that could be my habits from 12-plus years with the feel of the SHO though...

Yes, I do smile when I see it across the parking lot... But I am still keeping the SHO, because I Love them both. Maybe it's a little like having more than one kid. Maybe. Don't worry, I'm not about to adopt any other ten-year-old. Heh.

I hope Mr. S.C. is healthy/safe/happy on his trip to Singapore, and I wish him all the best, 'cause I'm sure diggin' the car he sold before he left Tulsa...

More Later. _\,,/

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Tuesday, November 20, 2007

Again? Yes, Disjointed Again.

But with less anger this time.


Before I forget to mention it, go see my buddy Scott, he's got some cool pictures from the ultimate full-on N@SCAR Experience. Not that I'm sending readers away; just that lookin' at those pictures makes me want to break out the massa-card and go give it a shot.


K was just here, he stopped by to show us the rack off that deer he got last weekend... It was only six points, but still, it was pretty nice lookin'. This led into an interesting conversation amongst everybody here, which led to the quiet giggle of the day. It seems that last time Dad's uncle Bobby went up there to hunt, he "missed the handle and grabbed the wire" when he reached to open the electric fence. I know, I know, it's sad to think of anybody gettin' zapped, but I can't help but hear the voice of Hank Hill sayin' "Dammit Bobby..."


I'm sure the entire eating population will be very glad I'm stickin' to the "ordinary" for my contribution to this year's Thanksgiving feast. I was real proud to make/try that Cranberry Relish last year, but personally, I just didn't really like it, and hey, it's just not right to spend time cookin' up something you don't really want to eat. This year, it's Rolls and Green Bean Casserole, and possibly a Chocolate Eclair, but I'm still up in the air about that... Or maybe I'll just make it and save it in the fridge so Clay and I can dive into it by ourselves after we get home.


My Birthday is a week away; which means this computer will be a year old, and my cat will be six. I'm not even mentioning how old I'll be. If you're gift-shopping (and would like to spend as much as you'd spend on a really cheap new car or a really nice used car), I'd just love an AquaMassage. I'll make room for it in the spare bedroom.


I started the knitting for Mom's Christmas; but the more I have my hands in that soft, shiny yarn, the more I think I might just keep going and make it a throw instead of a scarf; which would take up a lot of knitting time, which would mean shopping for all the people I knitted for last year... And I'd have to figure out what to buy, which is even harder than figuring out what to knit. This is the first one I've done this way, I knitted a swatch for gauge, measured, counted, and ripped it back, and then cast on three hundred and thirty stitches (plus an extra six or eight just for the halibut) with a circular needle; so that I can knit stripes that will go the length of the scarf instead of the width. I'm just past the first set of stripes and I like how it's lookin' so far; a wide burgundy stripe, then a skinny set of grey-black-grey, then another wide burgundy stripe, and it's silky-soft too. How did I pick burgundy with a little grey and black? Well, if she likes her truck, surely she likes the colors -- and hey, if she leaves it in the truck, it'll match. (ha-ha)


Seriously, I know there's not anybody reading this who'd spend the cash to have the freight truck show up at my house with an AquaMassage, but maybe there's somebody out there who'd like to horse-trade one for a 2-person Sauna. The one I have sittin' in my garage is Infra-Red (no gas, no propane, total electric, just plug it into a regular outlet), made by a company called Miracle Heat. Since it heats by IR, it's dry, which means there's no rocks for anybody to pour a beer over to stink up the place like they did at the Holiday Inn. Dad and I put it together right there where it's sittin' -- it's easy to dismantle and reassemble, it'll fit in a small pickup or possibly a mini-van, and it's even got speakers in the top so you can pipe in your own music... Call me crazy, I'd just rather have an AquaMassage, especially since they don't have 'em by-the-minute at the mall anymore.


I've still got a little somethin' that I'm really-really fired-up about; but I don't wanna write about it just yet 'cause I don't wanna jinx it...


More later... _\,,/


Wednesday, November 14, 2007


As Grandpa Simpson says, "Oh, bitch, bitch, bitch!"


Okay, so I didn't get in on NaBloPoMo this year. Whups. Surely you'll forgive me for that... And surely, being forgiving, you'll also forgive me if a lot of this post is angry ranting...


I can't believe I forgot to share this one, but the other night while Clay and I were lounging about (fully clothed) on my favorite king-size pillowtop, My Mom called with a HoMeSkOoLiNg [tm] question. It seems as though HoMeSkOoL mOm had left the kids home with their dad to do their "HoMeWoRk," believe it or not, and they were covering the topic of one syllable words, along with how to divide words between the syllables. Mom's phone call was apparently to settle the argument between the HoMeSkOoLeRz [tm] and their ol' man, who had tried to tell them a syllable is three letters. I'll leave y'all on your own to decide if that's funny or sad or both. I'd say it's a good bit of both, but that may be just because I had a big fluffy place to roll around laughing my ass off. We entertained one another for quite a while by coming up with as many one syllable words as we could, most of them words folks probably shouldn't say around kids, especially not HoMeSkOoL kIdZ. Heh heh.


Also, today, I got to hear HoMeSkOoL mOm [tm] use the word "funnest" in a sentence, not once, but twice.


I'm thinkin' we're going to Thanksgiving for the express purpose of getting a front-row seat for this year's Turkey Carcass Arts & Crafts Extravaganza. Words cannot express how happy it makes me to know that I have a driver's license and car keys so that I can just leave if somebody pisses me off.


We finally have our computers back up and running, finally, and it's great to have 'em back on where we don't have to struggle with the book and the file cabinet then still can't look up anything after 1999. They're back on, and now they're all running through the same router and on the same network so now they all have internet, which worries me. The one we had to designate as the inventory server is the one that used to be the major p@%n-portal, which is, I'm sure, notably risky. Getting the whole thing set up was a bit of a hassle as well -- with tech guys on the phone managing to irritate our "computer mechanic" on day one, and me on day two. I kinda got the impression that what he was trying to say was "I don't know, I'm not sure, but I'm sure I know more than you, even though you're standing there with your hands on it." Oh well, I'm just glad it's over with...


This morning, while the computer mechanic was here swappin' out a couple CD drives, we were chattin' about different things, and I answered a phone. The female voice on the other end asked for the boss, and when I told her he wasn't in, she said "Well, who else is there?" I kinda chuckled, and then feelin' like a smartass, I said "'scuse me?" just to see if she'd say it again and she did. "Well, right now, it's me and the guy who came here to work on the computer." As if all the other chicks who work at other yards haven't noticed, it really pisses me off to hear another woman do that whole wanting-to-talk-to-a-man thing. After a sigh that was somewhat like an audible eye-roll, she asked about a head for a Sable. When I asked what year, she asked what year and a male voice answered in the background. When I asked if it was OHV or DOHC, she had to ask him. When I said "hang on, I'm checkin'," she repeated that as well. I really wish I'd been "quick" enough to say "Hey, who else is there?"


"Price and avaliability subject to change in relation to customer attitude."


Yes, it was a bit of a long day, today I even got to answer such fun HoMeSkOoLeR [tm] questions as "What does E-T-C mean?" I hope I've made a memorable difference... I was wearin' thin by the time that guy got here to pick up that Sable head, and he got on my freakin' nerves too. I knew he'd stand a chance of tryin' to make me mad, just by the nature of the phone call, and since I was alone on the counter when he got here, I passed the card (to HoMeSkOoL dAd) so that I wouldn't have to be irritated by it all. While they were trying to find the head, my phone rang, and since I'd been waiting to hear from my mom, I didn't hesitate to answer and take it to the back office. I'd only been away about half a minute when he came back there and got me, he was trying to print an invoice (when we were hand-writing all of the invoices, I had to do all those for him too, okay, I'll shut up about that). Being oh-so-brilliant and all, he wasn't able to read the screen and make a logical decision (well, if I'm trying to print an invoice, I guess I should click this little cartoon printer that says "invoice" on it...), so I came back out front to make the two mouse-clicks. The guy writing the check said something to the effect of "well, if you can get any work outta her..." He looked me straight in the eyes a split-second later, and I wasn't hiding a thing.

After I'd hung up the phone I was on and was trying to explain the printer selection window, he said something about "you're just like me..." and something about computers. I still wasn't hiding my feelings when I said "No, I'm not. I am certainly not like you."


While I'm ranting and bitching, if you pull out into traffic with a trailer load of brush and shit that's not tied down to a trailer that doesn't have lights on it, then drive halfway between the two lanes for a couple blocks, then finally pick the left lane, and then make a right turn from that left lane, you're a dick. You're a dick, and you have no place to be mad or do any yelling out the window at someone who honked at you because when they tried to come around your unlit trailer (to be sure they didn't hit anything that might fly off of it) they had to slam on the brakes to keep from hitting you as you made a right turn out of the left lane with no signal and no brake lights. You're the dick there, not the person who honked and avoided hitting you. Got it?


Now, aren't you glad there's not a gun in my car?


Maybe it's something in the air lately... Or maybe it's that vivid nightmare I had about armed robbery last night... I'll just quit for now.

More later. _\,,/

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Thursday, November 08, 2007


Last night's odd snippet of memorable dream involved attempting to stick something into my eye that was very certainly not a contact lens. The oddest part was knowing that what I had on my finger was some grubby piece of fabric that was bigger than my entire eye, but still, soaking it with soloution, leaning up to the mirror, and trying (not so successfully) to stick it to my right eye. As if that's not creepy enough, it ended up giving me chunks of some sort of mysterious/infection-ish peanut-buttery substance that I had to pick out of my eye with Q-tips.

But hey, at least I got this idea to try for a cool Macro shot of my actual right lens this morning...

And yes, that's an RGP, the hard kind -- Apparently, I'm "Old School."


More later... _\,,/